


Gaslighter

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Depression, EMT!Chuck, F/M, Firefighter Dean Winchester, Plus-Size Reader, Reader-Insert, Self-Esteem Issues, Weight Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-28
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:47:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26689876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: When Dean’s best friend ends up engaged to his coworker Dean convinces himself that it’s just jealousy that’s making him oppose the relationship, so he pulls away from her for the first time in more than twenty years. What will he do when tragedy befalls her?~~~~~~~She finishes her salad and I catch her looking at the bread like it’s the last piece of pie! What the fuck? Of course she doesn’t pick up a piece of bread. No, she gets up and goes to clean her plate and I’m pissed here. Deserves better. She deserves better. I never should have introduced them. I’m such an idiot.Chuck gets up to talk to her at the sink and I try to focus on my meatballs. “Yeah, ‘cause I wanted to do this in front of-of all our friends.” Do what? What’s he doing? Why is he getting down on one knee? Fuck, he’s not. He’s not proposing to her. This is a bad dream. God, tell me this is a bad dream. “Y/n Y/l/n, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”Say ‘no’. Fuck, Y/n, say ‘no’. Let this long pause be you trying to figure out how to say ‘no’. Please.She gasps. “Yes!” No. “O-of course, I will!” She giggles as he puts that ring on her finger. She sounds happy. Maybe I am jealous.
Relationships: Chuck Shurley/You, Dean Winchester/You
Comments: 26
Kudos: 74





	1. The Best/Worst Day

**Summary:** Y/n’s best friend and roommate introduced her to her boyfriend, Chuck, and he seems like a perfectly awesome guy who wants what’s best for her. Dean doesn’t like them as a couple, but is it just jealousy, or something more?

**Story Warnings:** Self-esteem issues, depression, mentions of bullying, unsafe dieting practices, pining, jealousy,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t wanna wake up.

It’s one of those days that I just wanna hit the off button on my alarm and go back to sleep. Of course I have to go to work so that’s not a fucking option. I grumble as I get out of bed and put on clothes and brush my hair. I grumble as I walk out of my room to the kitchen and start a pot of coffee I'm desperately going to need. I pour myself a cup and then I fill another as I hear my roommate's bedroom door open.

Dean smiles as he enters the kitchen and I offer his morning caffeine to him. He's far too pretty for his own good and that pretty multiplies when he smiles and his eyes go all bright and the green of them shines. Too pretty for a morning when I feel this worn. "Thank you, you lovely woman. I need this like you wouldn't believe."

"I would, actually, since I was woken up at 3am when you got home from the bar...and I was kept awake by the sounds--what was her name Misty?--the sounds that Misty was making," I complain in the most good-natured way I can manage.

"Missy," Dean corrects with a lewd smirk. "She was...well, you heard."

"Yeah, I heard _all_ about how she was such a dirty girl. Next time, can you remember that I work Saturday mornings, D.? I can’t be this tired every Saturday. My manager is going to think _I'm_ irresponsible and partying all night Friday."

"Well, if you're gonna have the rep, might as well start coming out with me on Fridays," he offers as he takes a drink.

"I don't think my boyfriend would like me going clubbing with you," I say, going to grab a rice cake from the cabinet.

"I don't club, sweet cheeks. I go to nasty, dirty, dive bars to pick up nasty, dirty girls." I roll my eyes at him as I break off a bit of rice cake with my teeth. "Nah, I know. I'm sorry. You know it’s just for a few more Saturdays and then I go back on the night shift and you'll barely be seeing me for six weeks. Gotta get as much fun as possible in while I can."

"You know what you need?" I say around the cardboard in my mouth. "A girlfriend. A real, for-real girlfriend who can preferably be fucking quieter than the girls you pick up who wanna play porn star on a Friday night." He snorts into his coffee mug so I continue. "Come on! Join a dating app or something. Chicks dig firefighters, dude."

"No, chicks _think_ they dig firefighters 'cause we look so good on the calendars but once they're faced with the reality of the horrible hours and constant worry and being closer with a bunch'a guys with porn 'staches than we'll ever be with them or their family...they really don't."

"Well, the hours and worry are shit...but not all the guys have porn 'staches! Fergus shaved his off last week!"

Dean laughs. "Fact that _you're_ close enough to my squad to know that means that I'm too close to those guys to have room for a girlfriend." I sigh dramatically and he reaches out to ruffle my hair. "I'll get you some noise-canceling headphones for Friday nights while I'm on Days, okay?"

"Guess that'll have to do for now."

"And I will make you breakfast while you finish getting ready for work."

Dean is an amazing cook. It's one of the reasons they love him so much down at the firehouse, but everything he cooks is so indulgent and fatty. I will never lose weight if I let him fill me up with bacon and waffles and cheap 'maple' syrup. So I shake my head.

"I'm good, D., thanks."

"You're gonna go stand on your feet for eight hours, running on rice cakes? You need some fucking protein," he protests.

"Dude. I've got protein bars in my locker. I'll be fine. Thank you for the offer." He rolls his eyes and I go to my tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Just let me sleep next time, okay?"

"Gotcha." He seems a bit put out about it, and honestly I am too, but I'm on a diet.

“Say ‘hi’ to the boys for me!"

"Yeah. You gonna come by later?"

"Yeah. Someone's gotta bring you pie!" I say as I head out for work.

In actuality, my boyfriend asked me to come by the station after I get off. He's really big on us having dinners together. It's sweet...usually. He has gotten into the habit of ordering for me, which is...different. He's just worried about my health and he's trying to get my cholesterol down and my fiber intake up. He's doing what's best for me. I've never had a boyfriend who even cared to try to make me better.

Not that I've had a lot of boyfriends, really. I've been chubby since middle school, so I've never really gotten guys' attention. Unless bullies count, then I got a lot of guys' attention.

Well...and Dean. Dean has been my best friend since sixth grade. I used to have this _massive_ crush on him. He's always been the coolest guy to ever speak to me. I can’t even tell you what possessed him to sit next to me in the lunchroom when no one else would but when he did, it changed my life for the better. I'm glad I never asked him out back then. We wouldn't be friends now if I had and he's my best friend...I can’t even imagine my life without him in it.

He's the one who introduced me to Chuck. Chuck works as an EMT on their rescue engine. Not a firefighter, so he gets to keep the beard. I like the beard. It's a lot different than Dean's clean-shaven look.

Chuck, in general, is a lot different than Dean. He’s a lot shorter and he's got these bright blue eyes instead of brilliant green ones and he's not anywhere near as muscular. Chuck seems like he's in a bad mood half the time and he's got a lot to be irritated about so I guess I understand that. A lot of the guys at the station tease him about his height and stuff so I get why he'd be grumpy sometimes. Dean is almost always happy. He genuinely enjoys life. That's one of my favorite things about him.

I go to work, choke down half of a power bar before going out on the sales floor, and spend eight hours being "random retail punching bag #4" for a bunch of Karens. I stop by the bakery on the way out of the store and buy a pie, Dean's favorite treat. Then I head to the fire station. I've been here a million times and I know all of these men and women and they know me.

"Y/n! You brought us dessert?! How nice of you!" the familiar voice of Chief John Winchester greets me.

“I brought this for your son, but I’m sure he’d love to share with all y’all,” I respond as John wraps an arm around me.

John laughs. “Actually we were just about to sit down for dinner. You’ve got perfect timing, Darlin’. Come on.” He leads me to the kitchen/dining room in the middle of the station, but I’ve been here for enough station dinners that I know how to get there. I smell spaghetti sauce before we’ve even walked in the door and the table is filled with a carbo-loaded spread of pasta and bread and goodies. Protein in the meatballs and cheese. Salad looks...yummy, I guess.

Dean notices me first, smiles like the sun and stands. “Y/n! You brought pie! You are the best!” He rushes to me and takes the box from my hands, kissing my forehead as Chuck smiles and pats the chair next to him.

“Saved you a seat, angel eyes.” My cheeks heat up at the nickname and I move around Dean to go sit next to my boyfriend. He presses a kiss to my cheek and I look down at my lap. Chuck puts a plate in front of me and...fills it up with salad. “Don’t go crazy with the dressing. It’s full of added sugars and bad fats.”

Salad’s good for me. Fiber, vitamins and junk. So good for me.

I nod at Chuck and poor a small amount of salad dressing over the lettuce and pick up a fork. I’ll eat the salad and then I’ll get some spaghetti...maybe. Maybe I should just fill up on salad so I’m not tempted to eat the bad-for-me food. Rabbits survive on this stuff, I’m sure I can too.

We eat and the guys talk around me. Women, fires, workouts, food, this new strip club down the street that’s being protested by the local Baptist church. Chuck’s partner, Alex, says she doesn’t understand why everyone’s making a big deal. It’s just stripping. Billie, the only female firefighter at the station, says the same which causes Fergus to snort.

“You don’t have to do this ‘one of the boys’ thing, girls. It’s okay for you to be feminist about the bloody strip club.”

“I find stripping to be a very feminist thing. These women are using the objectification of their bodies that men _already_ do to make a living. If it’s not empowering to make men throw cash at you for the simple act of showing a little skin, I don’t know what is,” I answer and Dean and Benny, our resident Cajun, both smile at me. Chuck looks annoyed for some reason...so I shut up.

The conversation moves on, I pick at my salad. I’m so fucking hungry. I just want some fucking meatballs. I’ve been starving for days now. But I’ve lost five pounds so...worth it?

“You gonna eat, Y/n?” Dean asks and I stab a tomato with my fork and make a show of shoving it in my mouth. He raises an eyebrow. “Gonna eat _real_ food?”

“This is real food, Dean,” Chuck answers for me. Yup, it’s really...food.

I finish my salad and I look longingly at the bread for a minute before I stand and go to clean off my plate. If I clean the plate, I won’t give in and put pasta on it. Chuck walks up as I’m drying it off and kisses my cheek. “You’re doing really good on your new diet, Y/n. I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks,” I say, my cheeks getting hot.

“And I’m so glad you came today.”

“Well, you asked me to,” I remind him.

“Yeah!” he responds enthusiastically. “Yeah, ‘cause I wanted to do this in front of-of all our friends.” Do what? What is he gonna--holy shit, why is he going down on his knee? Is that a ring box?! My eyes go wide as he opens the ring box to show me a big princess-cut diamond in a white gold band with baguette-cut sapphires down the sides. “Y/n Y/l/n, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

I’m honestly speechless. I stare at the ring for a few moments before I let out a gasp. “Yes! O-of course, I will!” I giggle and look over at the clapping audience as Chuck slips the ring on my finger. It’s too small, he has to struggle to get it on, but I’m sure we can fix that somehow.

My eyes fall on Dean as John and Billie and Alex come over to congratulate us and examine the ring. He looks pissed off. Why isn’t he happy for me? Benny starts to whisper to him and Dean shakes his head, responding quietly before wiping his hand on his thighs and walking out. I’ll catch him at home, I guess?

“The ring is beautiful, Chuck! You did such a good job!” Alex gushes as she takes my hand.

“She’s gonna need some baby oil and string to work that thing off her finger if you don’t take it off now, though,” Billie warns and I nod.

“Yeah, I’m just a bit too fat for this right now. But I can put it on my necklace until it fits!” I exclaim, twisting painfully at the ring to get it off my finger before it swells and makes it impossible to remove. I pull out the white gold heart locket Dean gave me for my eighteenth birthday and take it off just long enough to slide the ring onto the chain and then I put it back on. I smile down at it. Representations of my best friend and my fiance, two halves of my heart, right there on one chain. Perfect. This is the best day of my life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dean’s POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n hasn’t been right since she’s been with Chuck. I couldn’t really pinpoint it at first, but I know what it is now. It’s this fuckin’ diet she’s on. The diet he _put_ her on. What the fuck does he think he’s doing, trying to change her? She’s perfect the way she is.

I’ve known her more than twenty years and she’s always been this beautiful bright spot in the world and Chuck comes in and she’s...dull. It’s like he’s sucking the personality out of her. Never shoulda introduced them to each other.

She turned down breakfast. She turned down _my_ breakfast. She loves my bacon pancakes! Or she did before Chuck decided she couldn’t have them anymore.

“You know why you feel like this, right?” Benny asks as we make the beds in the on-call room.

I roll my eyes. Here he comes, tellin’ me how I should have told her how I feel years ago and then I wouldn’t be feeling jealous. It’s not jealousy though! He’s _ruining_ Y/n. He’s breaking her apart and turning her into...worse. “I’m not jealous, Benny,” I pre-argue.

“You sure look jealous to _me_ , brother.”

“She’s just a friend. She is just the best friend I’ve got and I want what’s best for her. That’s all.”

“Damn, you deep in that denial ain’t’chu?” he accuses before walking away.

Denial is where I live.

Okay, so I might have used to had a crush on Y/n back in high school, but we’d been friends for years by then and I didn’t want to ruin what we had for some ‘never gonna last’ high school thing. That was _years_ ago. She’s just a friend.

But she’s changing for him and _why_? Why is she changing for Chuck?

She’s too good for him.

Dad brings her in as we’re setting up dinner and she’s got a pie in her hands. I smile and stand. “Y/n! You brought pie! You are the best!” I exclaim, kissing her forehead and taking the pie. Spaghetti and meatballs is one of her favorite meals, maybe she’ll eat this.

Chuck pats the seat next to him and she walks away from me and I hate that she’s walking away from me. “Saved you a seat, angel eyes,” Chuck says and I roll my eyes as I set the pie on the counter. ‘Angel eyes’. Barf. I sit down a few seats down the table and watch as he puts salad on her plate. Salad. Fuckin’ rabbit food...and then he says, “Don’t go crazy with the dressing. It’s full of added sugars and bad fats.” He’s not even letting her make her veggies more palatable? Really?! Bullshit.

She’s pushing that salad around her plate like a little kid does brussel sprouts. She wants nothing to do with that shit.

I force myself to participate in the conversations around the table. Bits about the new P90x workout and Fergus’ new girl and then someone brings up the new strip joint that the Calvary Baptist Church is protesting and we all throw in our two cents. When Alex and Billie, who are two of the most badass women I know, say they don’t see what the big deal is about a strip club, Fergus snorts like a damn pig.

“You don’t have to do this ‘one of the boys’ thing. It’s okay for you to be feminist about the bloody strip club,” he teases.

“I find stripping to be a very feminist thing,” Y/n says, and it’s the first time she’s spoken since she sat down. All eyes snap to her. “These women are using the objectification of their bodies that men _already_ do to make a living. If it’s not empowering to make men throw cash at you for the simple act of showing a little skin, I don’t know what is.”

I can’t help but smile at that. There’s my fire-eater. I expect her to keep going, give a damn dissertation on why strip clubs are all about female empowerment, maybe bring up the fact that the first whorehouses in the Wild West were run by women and that was the first setup for women to make money of their own and how a lot of brothel owners had a lot of political power in Wyoming because of it. But she doesn’t say any of that. She just goes back to picking at the salad.

“You gonna eat, Y/n?” I ask down the table. Her eyes flick to me, then the plate. She stabs her fork into a tomato and puts it in her mouth. I can see how not-satisfying that is to her. “Gonna eat _real_ food?”

“This is real food, Dean,” Chuck answers and I wasn’t fucking talking to you, Chuck.

He talks for her, he shuts her down, he sucks her dry of all her personality. Fuck him. Why did I introduce them to each other?!

She finishes her salad and I catch her looking at the bread. She’s looking at the bread like it’s the last piece of pie! What the fuck? Of course she doesn’t pick up a piece of bread. Why the hell would she give herself something she wants? No, she gets up and goes to clean her plate and I’m pissed here. Deserves better. She deserves better. I never should have introduced them. I’m such an idiot.

Chuck gets up to talk to her at the sink and I try to focus on my meatballs. When he practically shouts, “Yeah!” I look over at them. “Yeah, ‘cause I wanted to do this in front of-of all our friends.” Do what? What’s he doing? Why is he getting down on one knee? Fuck, he’s not. He’s not proposing to her. This is a bad dream. God, tell me this is a bad dream. “Y/n Y/l/n, would you do me the honor of being my wife?”

Say ‘no’. Fuck, Y/n, say ‘no’. Let this long pause be you trying to figure out how to say ‘no’. Please.

She gasps. “Yes!” _No_. “O-of course, I will!” She giggles as he puts that ring on her finger. She sounds happy. Maybe I am jealous.

Benny looks over at me and leans close to me. “You okay, brother?”

I let out a scoff and shake my head and literally bite my tongue as I stand up. “I’m fine. It’s just... **I am way too sober for this shit** ,” I respond before wiping my hands against my thighs and walking out of the dining room.

I’m on duty. I can’t drink. But as soon as I get outta here...as soon as I get out of here I’m going to drink until I can’t fucking remember why I’m upset. I head to the locker room and sit on one of the benches and try to hold back tears.

She’s gonna marry him. She’s gonna marry him and I’m...I’m gonna lose her. After twenty-two fuckin’ years, I’m gonna lose her. This is the worst day of my life.


	2. The Worst/Worst Day

**Summary** : Dean doesn't know how to deal with the perceived loss of Y/n when she gets engaged to Chuck. Y/n doesn't know how to deal with the loss of Dean on the heels of her engagement. Will tragedy bring them back together?

**Story Warnings** : Self-esteem issues, depression, mentions of bullying, unsafe dieting practices, pining, jealousy, non-major character death

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dean’s POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was wearing a Fleetwood Mac shirt the first time I saw her. Sittin’ by herself in the lunchroom the first Monday of sixth grade, happily pouring Doritos dust into her mouth. Next day she was wearing a Jethro Tull shirt. When she was brushing powdered sugar from a thing of Hostess donuts off of a Rush shirt on Wednesday, I _had_ to make friends, right? The girl obviously had good taste. Hell, maybe that’s why she never wanted me…’cause she’s got good taste.

Shit.

Twenty-two years. Twenty-two years of head-banging to Rock with her and laughing with a mouthful of pie with her and cuddling up on the couch watching horror flicks with her. Twenty-two years...I should be happy for her. She’s found her next twenty-two years. I should be happy for her.

Why can’t I be happy for her?

“Bad day?” I didn’t even notice this chick walk up beside me. She’s pretty, redhead, big green eyes. Last night I woulda turned on the charm and taken her home, but not tonight. Tonight’s between me and Jack Daniels.

“Yeah. You could say that,” I dismiss.

“Wanna talk about it?” she offers, sitting on the stool next to me.

“Not really. Wanna drink about it,” I say, picking up my glass.

“Can I buy you one?” I sigh. She’s trying so hard. I don’t wanna be mean, but she’s not taking the hint.

“Listen, lady...you’re gorgeous and any other night I’d be the one buyin’ _you_ drinks and I’d be Mr. Right Now for you, but tonight it’s not gonna happen, okay? Thank you for the interest, but I’m drinkin’ alone and I can’t do that with you in my ear,” I snap at her.

“Suit yourself,” she says, obviously upset that I turned her down.

I polish off my drink and pull out my phone. Y/n has called four times, she’s texted a half a dozen times.

**< Hey.**

**< Where’d you go?**

**< Are you okay?**

**< What the hell, dude?**

**< Dean, where are you?**

**< Okay, well, I guess you’re at one of your nasty, dirty dive bars. I hope you pick a quiet one this time. I’ll see you in the morning.**

How am I gonna face her in the morning? With that ring on her finger, how am I gonna be able to face her? She’s gonna see how I feel, how jealous I am. She’s gonna see that I’m not happy for her. She’s gonna see I’m a shitty friend.

I sigh as I swipe past her messages to my contacts and call Dad. “Dean. Something wrong? You usually don’t call so late.”

I clear my throat. “No. No, nothing wrong, but...I was wondering if, uh, I mean...If Cole doesn’t mind, of course, if I can go to night shift early, like tomorrow early.”

“Why would you want that? You _hate_ nights,” he argues. Goddammit, Dad, don’t make me answer that.

“I just don’t wanna be on days anymore. I’m better on the night shift. Will you please ask Cole, Chief?” Use the title, make it a company request not a family favor.

He’s quiet for a minute. “Sure, Lieutenant. He might want you to take night shift until Christmas when it was planned to switch back.”

“Ya know, I’m all right with that. Might ask you to make it permanent.” Then I won’t have to see her anymore. Until she moves out to live with her fiance and leaves me behind, at least. “Let me know what he says. Bye, Dad."

I pinch the bridge of my nose and sigh as I set my phone down. When did my life become a Thomas Rhett song?

It’s 2am when I get home. I’m drunk but I’m not stumbling. The lights are off. Y/n is in bed, probably asleep for hours. I walk up to her door and lean my head against it. I should have told her. I should have told her years ago and now it’s too fucking late. I’m too fucking late.

But I can get happy for you, Y/n. Just give me a few months. Just give me a few months to get happy for you and...give me some time to distance. I’ll get happy about it eventually.

I head to bed, wake up to my alarm at 7:30. Text from Cole

**< Don’t know what possessed you to trade early but I wont question it. Nights are yours tonight on**

Thank God.

Sunday morning. Y/n’s gonna be at breakfast with her parents. Maybe they’ll make her eat real food.

I head out of my room and into the kitchen. I’ll get something to eat and some coffee and then I’ll get a few more hours of sleep and then I’ll-

Y/n’s sitting at the table, bowl of yogurt with a few blueberries on top, phone in her hand. “What are you still doing here?” I ask.

She sets the phone down and smiles at me. “I canceled breakfast. I didn’t get a text back from you yesterday. Thought I might get to see you before you went in if I skipped seeing Mom and Dad.”

I swallow and focus on the coffee machine. “Sorry ‘bout that. Had it on silent,” I lie.

“Didn’t hear you come in last night, either. Did you finally find a girl that can keep it inside?”

“No, uh, I…” Lie again, why not? “Went to her place. This hot redhead chick.” I pull down a mug and fill it. “Figured you’d want the place to celebrate with Chuck. Didn’t want you embarrassed about _your_ sounds.”

“Oh, he was exhausted after working all day so...he went home,” she says, looking down at her lap. “Anyway...um, I was thinking, after you get done with your shift, we could go out to some dirty dive bar and-”

“I’m moving to the night shift tonight,” I interrupt. I take a drink of my coffee and turn to the fridge. “Cole and I switched a little early.”

“Two weeks early. That’s...okay, um...do you wanna do something _now_ , then? Brunch or...something?”

I shake my head. This hurts too damn much. “Nah. I gotta go take some sleeping pills and get my sleep schedule messed up the right way for the night shift.” I smile tight as I grab a piece of cold pizza and start munching on it. “But, uh, congratulations, sweet cheeks. You’re gonna make the little man a lovely bride.”

She shakes her head at me, laughing a little. “He’s not little, Dean! How could he compete with a giant like you?”

“Human Growth Hormone.” I can’t resist joking with her, especially at Chuck’s expense. “Or maybe one of those illegal operations where they lengthen the bones. Ooh! _Or_ we could put him on the Rack. Stretch ‘im out.”

She giggles and I am gonna miss that sound and those brilliant, shining eyes, and the way she looks so fucking beautiful in her bathrobe with her hair a mess. Chuck better appreciate this look as much as I do.

I already miss her.

And I’m walking away.

I lean down and kiss her temple and head back to my bedroom before I bust out the waterworks.

I take my Ambien and fall asleep and I dream of her. It’s not the first time I’ve had this dream: me and Y/n cuddled up on the couch. Tequila and Friday the 13th. My hand on her hip, her head on my shoulder, counsellors having sex on the screen. A gasp of fear has me looking down into her beautiful face, and then I kiss her. She whines so pretty, twists in my lap, straddles me without ever breaking contact between our lips. My hands move to her ass as our tongues lick each other. She whispers, “I love you, D.” and kisses my ear to seal the words into my brain...and then I wake up.

Hard as a rock for my best friend at, what time is it? 3:32 in the afternoon. My engaged best friend, who is...shit, probably with her fiance. I’m going back to sleep.

Ya know, overnights work best for avoiding the real world, the waking world. Overnight is almost a completely different universe...and I can sleep all day and strategically miss Y/n after she gets home from work and I can get over this.

Working a few weeks with my baby brother helps, too. Sam’s an EMT. Better paramedic than _Chuck_. Sam supports me, doesn’t press or push. He just tells me every damn night that I should talk to her. “You should talk to her,” like it’s that fucking easy. She’s engaged. I missed my damn chance...and let’s not forget that she never said she wanted anything other than friendship, okay? She only wanted me to be her friend...and that’s what I am. I’m her friend.

I’m her friend, avoiding her by bunking at the station on her days off so that I don’t see her. But, of course, I can’t ignore her. That damn ring on her finger is all I can think about. And that’s why the dreams, the perfectly tame ‘making out on the couch’ dreams, have become some of the hottest wet dreams I’ve ever had...and they’ve moved to the station. She finds me there, layin’ in my bunk and climbs onto my bed. I remind her that she’s engaged and she tells me she doesn’t love him. She tells me that she loves me. She covers my body with hers and kisses me. I pull her clothes off and we make love right there in the on-call room. I always wake up sticky.

But I’m getting better. I talk to her on messaging and that’s easy. I haven’t seen her in person in weeks...and that’s easier. That’s better. She’s happy and, eventually, I’m gonna be happy for her.

We get a call at 2:30 in the morning. Motor Vehicle Collision, single-car collision with a tree, gonna have to get the Jaws of Life and get the occupants out. Nothing I haven’t supervised a hundred times. Except when we ride in on the rescue engine, Sam’s ambulance not far behind, the car looks real familiar and that’s not something I’ve dealt with a hundred times before. That’s Y/n’s parents’ Ford!

I jump out of the truck and run for the sedan. “Mr. Y/l/n! Hey, you awake?!” Shit, they’re both knocked out. “Ketch! Get the hydraulic spreaders, we gotta get them outta here!” I shout at the Engineer coming off the truck a lot slower than I would prefer. I reach in and press two fingers to Y/n’s dad’s carotid. He’s got a pulse! I rush around to the other window and check her mom. Faint. It’s faint but it’s there. They’re both alive. Thank God. “Passenger side first, she’s more urgent,” I demand of Ketch, who nods.

“10-4, Lieu.”

I step back to supervise, but then I smell the gas. A lot of gas. It’s a bit of a blur after that. One minute, we’re trying to get them out and the next, that Ford’s gone up in flames and we’re callin’ in a tank for fire suppression and...I’m just watching Y/n’s whole world burn away. She’s gonna be destroyed.

“I need you to drive me home,” I tell Sammy when I see the trooper that showed up right before us get in his car to run information on the registration for the car. He’s running next of kin.

“Dean, I-”

“I know it’s against regs but I can’t let a canary tell ‘er that her parents are dead, Sam.” I look over at him and my eyes are fighting these tears. I’m in pain for her, and me, too. I’ve known her parents since I was fourteen. “It’s gotta come from me.”

Sam nods and we climb into his ambulance. He doesn’t hit the siren, we’re already breaking enough rules, but we make good time anyway. Sam stays in the bus and I head up to the apartment. It takes no thought to walk into her bedroom and I’m about to wake her up, but she looks so peaceful. She looks so beautiful and as soon as I wake her up, nothing is going to be okay ever again for her. I’m about to make this the worst day of her life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Reader POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean just disappeared after Chuck proposed. He didn’t even congratulate us or look at the ring. What the hell? He just walked out. What the _hell_? My best friend just walked out. I look around the station house after everyone stops gushing about the turn of events but I can't find him. I text him a couple times, no response.

I knock on the door to the Chief's office and John looks up with a smile. "Come in, Miss Bride-to-be."

"Have you seen Dean? I haven't seen him since dinner."

"You check the on-call bunks?" I nod. Of course I did. "He's probably in the locker room, showering."

I smile and nod again. "Yeah. He's probably going out after the shift's over, wants to be all fresh." I guess that makes sense. I really wanted to see him. Damn. “Well, I guess I’ll see him at home. Have a nice night, Chief.”

Where the hell did he go? Didn’t even congratulate me. Rude.

I go home, though. What else can I do? I stare at the ring, hanging next to the locket, and I open the locket. One side has a picture of me and Dean at a Metallica concert senior year. The other side has a picture from Senior prom. We didn’t go together, not really. We went with a group of friends. But he was the one who picked me up and drove me to Ingrid’s place, which is where the limo picked us up.

I remember the first time he asked me to dance. Some Jamiroquai song I can’t remember because as soon as he put his hands on me, I was focused entirely on him. Dean was the best thing in my life for so much of it. What if tonight is a sign of things to come? What if he’s gonna stop being in my life once I get married to Chuck? Am I gonna lose him? I don’t know if I could handle losing him. He’s been the one constant in my life since I was a preteen.

No. He’s not going anywhere. Chuck’s his coworker and I’m his best friend. He can’t go anywhere.

I go to sleep and wake up early the next day. Sunday. I usually have breakfast with Mom and Dad on Sundays. It’s a routine. It’s how we stay in each others’ lives. But today, I need to see Dean. I call Mom and cancel breakfast. I’ll go see them later and show them the ring and tell them the good news...but until then, I’ll have some no sugar added yogurt and some blueberries, but not too many blueberries because they’re high in fructose and that’s just sugar waiting to metabolise.

I wonder if he even came home last night. Didn’t get woken up at 3am this time. Maybe he’s not even in his room? Is his car in the parking lot?

I start to consider going to check when I hear his door open. He walks into the dining room and stops. “What are you still doing here?” he asks. I’m gonna take that as surprise, not rudeness.

I set my phone on the table and smile at him. “I canceled breakfast,” I answer. “I didn’t get a text back from you yesterday. Thought I might get to see you before you went in if I skipped seeing Mom and Dad.”

He blinks a few times before he walks over to the coffee maker. “Sorry ‘bout that. Had it on silent.”

Okay, I guess. “Didn’t hear you come in last night, either. Did you finally find a girl that can keep it inside?” I ask.

“No, uh, I...went to her place. This hot redhead chick,” he says as he pulls a mug out of the cabinet and fills it with coffee. “Figured you’d want the place to celebrate with Chuck. Didn’t want you embarrassed about _your_ sounds.”

Oh, he thought Chuck and I were going to...I guess people probably would celebrate an engagement with sex, but we’re waiting. Chuck’s waiting. Wants us married first. It’s no skin off of my back, though. I’ve only done it one time so why’s it matter to wait for a name change? “Oh, he was exhausted after working all day so...he went home. Anyway...um, I was thinking, after you get done with your shift, we could go out to some dirty dive bar and-”

“I’m moving to the night shift tonight,” he interrupts before taking a sip of his coffee and opening the fridge. Wait, he’s going to night shift already? “Cole and I switched early.”

“Two weeks early.” That means I’m not going to see him much. I’m already losing him? I’m already losing him. “That’s...okay, um...do you wanna do something _now_ , then? Brunch or...something?” Anything. Just prove to me that I still have my best friend.

He shakes his head. No, come on. “Nah. I gotta go take some sleeping pills and get my sleep schedule messed up the right way for the night shift.” He grabs a piece of cold pepperoni pizza and smiles at me as he bites off a mouthful. “But, uh, congratulations, sweet cheeks. You’re gonna make the little man a lovely bride.”

I shake my head and laugh a little. At least he congratulated me. “He’s not little, Dean! How could he compete with a giant like you?”

“Human Growth Hormone,” he jokes and I giggle. He’s still joking with me. Maybe I’m just overreacting, thinking he’s going away. “Or maybe one of those illegal operations where they lengthen the bones. Ooh! Or we could put him on the Rack. Stretch ‘im out.”

I cover my mouth and giggle. He leans down and kisses my temple and it’s soft and sweet and for some reason, it feels like he’s reached into my chest and grabbed my heart tight in his fist. Why does that seem like a fucking goodbye? Please, God, let this be me being paranoid.

I don’t think it is, though. I think he’s avoiding me. Even on the night shift, I should see him on my days off and his, but I don’t. I don’t know if he’s picking up extra hours or if he’s staying somewhere else or maybe he’s found a girlfriend or something, but he’s not around. He’s not around at all. He’s been on nights for almost three weeks and I haven’t seen him.

The first week, he barely answered texts either, but we’re finally talking through text again. I don’t know what happened, though. I don’t know what happened and I’m glad that it’s started to get better, but...what the hell happened to us?

“It doesn’t surprise me, angel eyes,” Chuck says as he hands me a Slimfast from his fridge. “Dean’s always been a bit of a dick.”

I shake my head as I shake my drink. “He’s not. You just don’t like how he teases you about your height. But he teases Sam about _his_ height, too, and his hair and he teases Benny, Ketch, and Fergus about their accents and me about how I freak out on his horror movies. He teases people. I’d be more worried if he _weren’t_ teasing you.” This is different. He’s barely talking to me.

“Well, I don’t care how long you’ve been friends; it’s not right for him to make fun of your weight like he does.”

What? Dean wouldn’t--he’s _never_ \--does he make fun of me when he’s at work?

“I told him when I saw him the other day that you were upset he was ignoring your texts. Hopefully he’s gonna start texting you again soon.” Chuck takes a drink of his beer and I swallow down a chalky mouthful of chocolate-flavored weightloss shake. No wonder Dean started messaging again...my fiance asked him to.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” I say, setting my shake on the coffee table and standing. Chuck nods and lets me go and I have to keep myself from crying. I’m ugly when I cry. I sit on the toilet lid and sigh heavily, trying to keep it in. Dean doesn’t care that I’m fat. He defended me against the mean girls in high school about my weight. Why would he-

Dean wouldn’t do that.

But I didn’t think he’d just stop talking to me, either. Or avoid coming home. Maybe I don’t know him as well as I thought I did.

"So, I was thinking we could take the day tomorrow and drive out to Wichita. There's a nice wedding venue out there I wanted to look at," Chuck suggests when I get back to the couch to watch his football game with him. "We'll make the whole day of it!"

"Well, tomorrow's Sunday, babe. I spend Sunday with my parents."

"It's my only day off, angel," he says and his voice has that darkness in it that he gets sometimes.

"I'm...I'm sorry, but...it's...tradition," I stutter out. I don't want him mad at me, but I bailed on them a couple weeks ago and I felt horrible about it all day.

"So, you don’t want to take my one day off this week to go to Wichita and look at the place we might be getting married?" he snaps, standing up. "Do you even _want_ to marry me?" He stomps out before I have a chance to answer him.

"Of course I want to marry you!" I exclaim, jumping up and running after him. "I'm sorry, babe. Please. I'm sorry! I will go with you any day other than Sunday!"

He sighs and turns to me. “Fine. We’ll go another day, I guess.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. Let’s just...go sit down, I guess. Will you get me another beer?” I nod and rush for the kitchen. At least he’s not mad at me. I don’t know if I could handle him being mad at me while I’m pretty effectively losing Dean.

I miss Dean. The apartment seems big without him. Chuck has taken his spot on the couch a few times but it’s not the same. Even if he’s been saying mean things about me to make the guys at the station laugh...he’s still Dean and I still miss him. I want to ask him to be my...Man of Honor, I guess? Or maybe that’s stupid. I guess I could ask Chuck’s partner to be Maid of Honor. That might make more sense. Or Sheryl from work. I’m sure I could find someone, a female, I guess.

But I miss Dean. It’s been weeks since I’ve seen his face or heard his voice. Only interacting through text and gifs and emojis is not okay. It’s like a long-distance friendship when he’s...he fucking _lives_ with me!

The first time I hear his voice since the Sunday after Chuck proposed is when he wakes me up in the middle of the night. He’s in half of his gear...standing next to my bed...smells like fire.

“Y/n, you gotta get up,” he says and his voice cracks.

“What’s going on?” I ask as I sit up and rub my eyes. He kneels beside the bed. “Did something happen?”

His lips move like he’s trying to get the words to come out and the longer he’s looking up at me with those pain-filled eyes, the more nervous and awake I get.

“Dean, what happened?” I demand. If he doesn’t tell me soon, my heart is gonna beat right out of my chest.

“We...there’s been an accident. We tried to get them out but-but the gas line got clipped in the collision and...we didn’t have time and...there’s probably a trooper on his way but I couldn’t...it had to come from someone you know...I’m so sorry, Y/n,” he whispers and my throat goes dry.

“Who was in an accident?” I manage.

“Your mom...an-and dad.” He shakes his head and my eyes go unfocused. I can barely tell that he’s crying too. “The car went up so fast, we didn’t even have time to...we tried to get ‘em out and there was nothin’ we could do and I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

I completely break. I’m wailing and sobbing and I’m having trouble breathing and I feel like I’m going to throw up, but then Dean moves to sit next to me and he holds me and we cry together. All I’ve wanted for weeks is for Dean to come back and here he is and it’s the worst day of my damn life.


	3. The Light is Dimming

**Summary** : Dean and Y/n deal with the pain of loss that comes with her parents' deaths. Chuck continues to be an absolute asshole in every way.

**Story Warnings** : Self-esteem issues, depression, mentions of bullying, mentions of unsafe dieting practices, pining, jealousy, non-major character death

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t think I’ve ever cried as much as I’ve cried these last two days. I keep thinking, “That’s gotta be the last of ‘em. I can’t have any more tears in me” but they always show up anyway. As soon as I think about Mom and Dad, the tears come anyway. I’m so drained. I’m so tired. I’ve never had to plan a funeral, let alone two. I feel sick. I’ve been having trouble eating. I slept most of yesterday. Work gave me bereavement, but I can’t imagine ever getting up and going back to work. I can’t imagine doing anything besides laying in this bed.

Dean’s brought me food a few times...but I’m not hungry. I’m just...so sad.

“I know what’ll cheer you up,” Chuck says when he comes to check on me. “Why don’t you come with me and we’ll go cake tasting?”

“No. I...I’m not in the mood for cake...or wedding planning. Why don’t you pick?” It’d end up being us picking his choice anyway. I find the will to get out of bed and head for the kitchen. My head is pounding. I need water.

“I think that’s something we’re supposed to do _together_ , right?” he says, and he’s got that tone again, but I don’t have the energy to get worried. If he wants to call off the engagement because I don’t want to go chew on cake that he’s gonna make me feel bad about eating because it’s full of sugars and bad fats, then he can. I don’t have a dad to give me away now anyway. I don’t have a mom to tell me how beautiful I look. What does it matter if I lose Chuck, too?

“Then wait until I’m up to it,” I say, tiredly. Or just go do it without me. I don’t care.

“You don’t seem like you’re very invested in this wedding, Y/n.”

“My parents just died, Chuck,” I snap, pouring water into my cup. “I am not thinking about our wedding right now!”

“I’m trying to distract you from your grief! I am going out of my way to help you out and you aren’t making it very easy, are you?”

It’s going out of his way to try to make me feel better? It’s going out of his way to _help me_? Maybe I _don’t_ wanna marry him. Maybe I’m better off alone. No parents, no Chuck...no Dean. Nothing.

“I’m sorry that my grief is inconvenient for you. Please, do go pick a cake. I wouldn’t want to deprive you because I’m sad.”

“You know what? Call me when you’re ready to let me in, Y/n,” he says before stomping out of the apartment. Shit. I hate that. Now I feel like crap for upsetting him. ‘Cause I need more reasons to feel like crap.

I’m curled up on the couch in my big, fluffy robe when Dean leaves his bedroom to get his coffee and breakfast at 5pm. He looks my way, sighs softly, and walks into the kitchen. When he walks back in, he’s got a bowl of my favorite cereal and a bagel. He sets them on the side table and sits next to me. “Gotta eat it before it gets soggy, Y/n,” he says softly.

“I’m not-”

“I don’t care if you’re hungry. We don’t waste food, remember?”

Our excuse for never leaving a pie more than two days. ‘We do not waste food in this house’. I sniffle and pick up the bowl. I actually feel better with food in my stomach...and I guess hunger begets hunger. I grab the bagel and tear a piece of that off with my teeth. I look over at him with the corner of my eye. “Funeral’s on Monday at noon. I know you’ll be tired but-”

“I’ll be there,” he answers without any reservations.

“Okay.” I nod and take another bite of bagel. “They liked you.” Oh, there’s more tears.

“I liked them, too. They were really good people,” he says quietly, and now I’m sobbing again. Why does the past tense of those words hit me so hard?

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do.

I had to buy a new black dress for the funeral. My old one’s too big. I had to take a cab to the funeral home because Chuck wouldn’t drive me and I was too emotional to drive myself. I had to shake everyone's hands and try to hold myself together...and I'm going to have to 'say a few words' as the funeral director said. I don't want to do this.

Dean walks in. Black suit, black tie, shiny black shoes. Looks like a model. A funeral model. He takes a seat on the second row of chairs on the left side of the aisle, looks down, fiddles with his cuffs.

I'm standing alone at the front when he gets up and walks over. "Where’s Chuck?" he asks quietly.

I shake my head. "He's...dead people make him, um, uncomfortable...and funerals are just...um...pity parties of grief and he'd rather av-avoid that."

"He didn't even come to support _you_? What kinda fiance lets his bride deal with something like this without…" He sighs as I wipe tears out of my eyes. "I gotchu."

He wraps his arms around me. I try not to break down on him again. I look so bad when I cry. But I feel safe enough in Dean’s arms that I can’t really stop the way I melt. He sticks by me, and I cling to him, until I have to read the eulogy. Not that it’s much of a eulogy. It’s mostly just me babbling about how lost I am without them and crying a lot. Dean’s right beside me again as soon as I step down.

“You’re gonna ride with me to the cemetery,” he says, and I just nod. It feels good to be back in his classic Impala. It smells like him and fire and leather. It smells like home and safety. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Dean drive as slow as he is right now, following these hearses.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers as we follow the hearses into the gate of the cemetery.

“It’s not your fault. You tried to save them.” I don’t blame him. I can’t blame anyone but the car that ran them off the road. “If you couldn’t save them, they weren’t savable.”

I watch them lower my parents into the ground. Dean takes my hand. Things feel just a little lighter with him beside me. It almost seems like things might be okay.

Dean drives us home...and he seems to be dragging. “You need to get a nap before work,” I say as we walk in.

“Nah, I mean...I don’t know if you should be alone.”

“I’m going to bed, too. I’m exhausted.” I shuffle off toward my bedroom and he follows me into the hall, grabbing my elbow to stop me.

“I still don’t think you should be alone,” he whispers, looking down at me. “You got room in that queen size for a teddy bear?”

I nod. Any other time, I’d be flustered about having Dean in my bed, but today I’m just happy to have him with me. We curl up beside each other on top of the comforter and I lay my head on his shoulder. He reaches out and takes my hand again and it doesn’t take long for us to fall asleep in our black outfits.

Of course, it doesn’t last. The safe, ‘I got my friend back’ feeling, it goes away as fast as it appeared. Dean goes to work and I just feel so alone.

For days. Even when I’m with Chuck. Alone.

Dean’s still making sure I’m eating and Chuck’s noticed I’m not losing weight anymore.

“It’s incentive,” he says, holding up the pristine white dress he bought me at the bridal store. “You were doing really good before and I know that if you get back on the diet, then you’ll be able to fit in this in less than a year!”

“You...bought me my we-wedding dress? And you bought it small, on purpose?” I ask. That just sounds like the absolute worst idea I’ve ever heard.

“Yeah! Do you like it?” he asks, offering it to me.

I pull the plastic off and examine it. It’s really pretty. He’s got good taste for this stuff, but...it’s a size 10. I was practically starving myself for months and only lost two dress sizes. This is going to take me forever to get into. He’s looking at me, expecting me to say great things.

“It’s beautiful. I really love the-the bust, sweetheart bust. It’s nice,” I stutter out.

“You don’t like it,” he accuses.

“No, I _do_!” I argue, eyes wide. Don’t get mad, Chuck. “It’s just...I always thought that...picking the wedding dress was something th-that the bride does, ya know?”

“Yeah, with her mom and a bunch of her friends and you don’t have that option, do you?” He snatches the dress out of my hand and yanks the plastic down. “I was trying to _help_ , you ungrateful bitch.”

"I'm sorry! I _am_ grateful! I'm sorry. Please, it's beautiful." I grab the hanger and pull it back toward me. "Thank you for the beautiful dress, Chuck. Thank you."

It takes a minute for the anger to leave his eyes but then he smiles. "You're welcome. When you get small enough to wear that, it's gonna be perfect."

I just nod.

Two days later, Chuck lets himself into my apartment, where did he get a key, and I gasp when I see his face. He's got a gnarly black eye. "Honey, what happened?"

"Your psycho roommate happened!" he exclaims as I stand from my spot on the couch.

Dean did this? No way. "Why would-"

"This is what I get for telling him to shut his mouth about you! Thinks it's just fine to tell stories on you being too fat for the rollercoaster at Six Flags." Dean would never tell anyone that. Not when he knows how upset it made me. "And when I told him to shut up, he fucking punched me like a damn lunatic!”

“This is-I can’t believe he would-”

“Well, he fucking _did_!” Chuck insists and I run for the ice pack in the freezer. “I want you out of here. Or I want him out of here. I don’t want you living with a crazy piece of shit like him,” he says as I hand him the ice pack.

It stops me in my tracks. He wants me and Dean to stop living together? Months or maybe years before the wedding, he wants to drastically change my living situation? He wants me to stop living with my best friend? When I don’t have any proof that Dean did anything wrong?

“Ch-Chuck, I don’t have anywhere to go. You have to give me time to look for somewhere else.” And to find out if what you’re saying is even _true_ or not.

“ _Fine_! Fine, stay here with that asshole. See if I fucking care! He only _attacked me_!” Chuck shouts before tossing the ice pack on the couch and rushing out.

Shit. I didn’t get a chance to ask where he got the key.

I sigh and pull out my phone, scrolling through my contacts until I get to a number I haven’t dialed in a while. Haven’t really needed to. I clear my throat as the line starts ringing.

“Winchester,” comes through and I sigh.

“Hey, Chief, it’s Y/n. If you’ve got a minute...I need to know what happened between Chuck and Dean today.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dean’s POV~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’ve never seen Y/n just completely break like she did the other night. I’ve seen her cry. I’ve seen her bawl. But I have never seen her _break_. She’s always been so strong, taken everything in stride, and seeing her destroyed like this is...so hard.

I wish I could have saved them. It was my job and I failed and now she’s broken.

She laid in bed crying all day yesterday. I brought her food, she didn’t eat it. I brought her water, she sipped it. When I wake up to go to work, I know Chuck’s been here. She’s moved. She’s sitting on the couch wearing her big fluffy robe. There’s no sign of food around her. I don’t think she’s eaten...and God knows Chuck would never try to get her to eat something.

I walk into the kitchen and look around. Gotta find something she can’t say ‘no’ to. Her cereal. That’s something she’ll _have_ to give a shot...and a bagel. Something that’ll stay in her stomach a while. And she’ll just have to eat if I sit with her and encourage her to. She needs it. I fill up the bowl and toast the bagel and bring them both into the living room and set them both on the table beside her. I sit beside her and watch her eye the food. “Gotta eat it before it gets soggy, Y/n,” I encourage.

She shakes her head. “I’m not-”

“I don’t care if you’re hungry,” I interrupt. “We don’t waste food, remember?” Eat the food, Y/n.

She sniffles and picks up the bowl. Thank God. She puts a spoonful of cereal in her mouth and chews, then she goes for another and another. I knew she was hungry. She finishes the bowl in a few minutes, then grabs the bagel. Hungrier than you thought, huh, Y/n? She looks over at me and sighs. “Funeral’s on Monday at noon. I know you’ll be tired but-”

“I’ll be there.” I can’t believe she’d even _think_ I’d skip it to keep my sleep schedule.

“Okay,” she says, nodding and taking a bite of her bagel. “They liked you.” She starts crying and I wish I could fix this. I wish her parents were still--they did like me. Mrs. Y/l/n told me that she thought Y/n and I should be together. She called me 'son' when it was just the two of us.

“I liked them, too. They were really good people,” I say quietly, and then she's bawling again, bagel forgotten in her lap. I really wish I could help. Fuck, I wish there was _something_ I could do.

But there's not. There's nothing. There's just...nothing I can do to fix this. All I can do is be there for her. I step back when Chuck is around but I am there for her when I can be.

I look like a Fed in this suit. Black on black with black shoes and a white shirt. Just need a pair of shades and I'm ready to chase aliens. But I'll wear the monkey suit. I'll wear the shiny shoes. For Y/n, I'll do anything.

Her car is parked next to mine when I leave the apartment. I guess she rode in with Chuck. Good. She shouldn't drive emotional. I drive to the funeral home and walk in, follow the signs to Room B. Y/n is standing alone near the front. There’s two caskets, closed, behind her. A dark mahogany wood for her dad and a white oak for her mom. Pictures of her parents on easels around the room. No sign of her fiance.

I walk up as she's shaking some old man's hand. "Where’s Chuck?" I ask, quietly.

She shakes her head and I can tell she's barely holding it together. "He's...dead people make him, um, uncomfortable...and funerals are just...um...pity parties of grief and he'd rather av-avoid that." Are you shitting me?

"He didn't even come to support _you_? What kinda fiancé lets his bride deal with something like this without…" Her lips tremble and I don’t want my anger to seep into her. "I gotchu." That’s a promise.

I hug her and she seems to relax a bit and then she starts crying and I really don't mind. This is good. We're close and that's good and she can cry and let it out and that's good.

I hate that Chuck isn't here but I'm glad because it means that I can be here for her and I think we both need that.

She shakes when she gets up to say the eulogy and I bite my bottom lip as she says, "I don't know what I'm going to do without them. They were so important to me." I know they were. They were so important to her.

I don’t give her much of a choice when she comes down from the podium and I tell her that she’s going to ride in my car in the funeral procession. She melts a bit into the leather of the front seat and she looks a little...more like herself as we let my car crawl behind the hearses. I wish we could just drive together forever.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper as we pass into the cemetery. This is my fault. I should have saved them.

“It’s not your fault. You tried to save them. If you couldn’t save them, they weren’t savable.” At least she doesn’t blame me. I blame me.

I stand beside her as the preacher says some words I’m not paying attention to. I take her hand. Why’s that make my heart hurt? Used to be, holding her hand was no big deal. Used to be hugs and holding her were normal. God, I don’t wanna miss her anymore.

I take the long way home, keeping her with me in the car, not caring that I have to work in a few hours and I’m exhausted. I just want to be with her. Eventually, we end up at home. She lets us in and I’m about to head to get coffee when she says, “You need to get a nap before work,” and I turn to her.

“Nah, I mean…” I don’t wanna leave her. “I don’t know if you should be alone.”

“I’m going to bed, too. I’m exhausted,” she says, both tiredly and dismissively, as she starts to walk away. I really, _really_ don’t want to leave her.

I step after her, my heart pounding as I grab her elbow and stop her. “I still don’t think you should be alone,” I whisper and I hope she can’t see how nervous I am. “You got room in that queen size for a teddy bear?” It’s not a big deal. Two friends napping in the same bed after an emotional, exhausting day. Don’t read too much into it, Y/n. Just let me be there for you.

She nods and we walk off toward her room. We lay down and I take deep breaths to calm my heart as she leans her head on my shoulder. I fucking love her and I hate so much that she’s in pain like this. I wish I could stay beside her forever. I reach down and take her hand again.

I wake up when my silent alarm starts going off on my fitness tracker. I slowly move her off of my shoulder and onto her pillow and move to stand beside her bed. I catch sight of her ring, on the same chain as the locket I gave her so many years ago. Back then I thought one day we might be something more than friends, but that ring...I hope Chuck learns how to treat her.

I go back on the defensive, keeping my distance to protect my heart. I go to work, I bring her food that she’s actually been heating, and I sleep...and dream of her.

I come into work before shift change by a couple hours. Catch up on any paperwork, talk to Cole about what happened on Days, talk to Dad if he’s still in his office. I head to the kitchen for coffee first. I stop when I hear Chuck’s voice.

“I _had_ to buy her dress for her. I mean, she’s sweet and smart and all, but until she can fit in that size 10 dress, we’re not walking down the aisle.”

He’s not gonna-

“She was doing really good before her parents died so I’m sure she’ll be able to control her appetite to get her fat ass in that dress so we can both look good in our wedding pictures.”

I walk into the kitchen and Chuck and Fergus both tense up when I walk over to the coffee machine on the counter. “You know, you really are a piece of shit, aren’t you, Chuck?” I turn and lean against the counter.

“Wh-what do you...what do you mean?” he practically squeaks.

“Ya know, I kept my mouth shut about you putting her on a diet and I kept my mouth shut about you not being there to support her through her parents’ funeral, but _this_?” My heart is pounding, adrenaline and rage pumping through my veins. I grab the edge of the counter to keep from launching myself at him. “Are you seriously sitting there, bragging about buying her a dress, a _wedding_ dress, that’s too fucking small so that she’ll fit some fucking arbitrary, imaginary, bullshit idea of beauty you’ve got in your tiny fuckin’ skull?” I say as calmly as humanly possible with the way I want to kill him right now.

He scoffs and steps up in front of me. Don’t hurt him, Dean. Don’t hurt him. “Look, Dean, it’s called incentive and she obviously needs it to get the weight off.” Don’t hurt him. We’re at work. This is a mountain of papers and reprimands and Y/n will hate me if I hurt her fiance. “You and her parents just let her think it was okay to be stuck in Lane Bryant clothes the rest of her life and I-”

My right fist slams into his face and he stumbles backward. “She fucking gorgeous in her Lane Bryants, you dick!” I slam my fist into his cheekbone again, knocking him to the ground. “You don’t fucking deserve her! You just wanna change her and break her and make her dim and dull! You-”

Hands grab my arms and shoulders and pull me back away from Chuck.

“Get out of here, Chuck,” Dad’s voice demands. Chuck huffs angrily as he pulls himself up off the ground and stomps out of the kitchen. “My office. Now, Lieutenant.”

Awesome. I’m in trouble.

“Chief, I know I messed up back there, but you didn’t hear-” I start as soon as the door closes behind me.

“I’ve been waiting for you to explode on that little gremlin since he asked Y/n out on that first date, son,” Dad says, walking around his desk to sit in his big chair. He smirks as he settles. “Shitty idea to do it at work, though.”

Of course, he knows. Does everyone _except_ Y/n know? “I didn’t mean to--I just-” I sigh loudly and shake my head, dropping into the chair in front of his desk. “He’s hurting her, Dad. He’s breaking her down and…”

“You should have told her when she started dating him, before he proposed...or maybe after, huh?” He chuckles. “Instead of running off to Overnights, you should have told her how you feel.”

“You make it sound so easy, but it’s not.”

“I’ve never known you to be shy with a woman.”

“Pay attention, man. She isn’t just some woman. She’s the woman I’ve been in love with since high school. She’s the woman I’ve wanted for half my life and she’s never showed me...she’s never showed me any signs of-”

“Now, who’s not paying attention?” He shakes his head. “I’ve watched you two grow up together and that woman, that woman you’ve been in love with since high school, she’s loved you since middle. She’s settling for Chuck, Dean. Don’t let her settle.”

I stare at him for a few minutes and lick my lips. “You think she’s...you really think so?”

Dad rolls his eyes at me. “I have been waiting for you two to get your heads outta your asses for twenty _years_. You need to tell her. Before she settles in to what she’s settling for. Understand me?”

I nod. “Yes, sir.”

Tell her. Tell her I love her. I can do that.


	4. The Light is Bright

**Summary** : Dean and Y/n finally say what needs saying.

**Story Warnings** : Self-esteem issues, depression, pining, jealousy, **18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I've been up all night by the time the doorknob turns and Dean walks in. After my chat with the Chief, I just couldn't manage to make myself sleep.

Dean's eyebrows shoot up when he sees me on the couch. "Up a little early, aren't'cha?" he asks, setting his keys on the hook on the wall.

"Didn’t sleep. Had to think and...order new locks for the door and...question the last twenty years of my life." He looks confused and a little upset so I just keep talking. "Chuck came by last night, massive black eye. Said you hit him and demanded that I move out...or kick you out." He nods, knowingly, like he was expecting that.

"He said you punched him because you were talking shit about me and he came to my defense and-" Dean's eyes go wide and he starts to argue it but I'm not done talking yet so I get a little louder. "-and that just didn't sit right with me so I called your dad because the Chief would know what caused a fight between his best Lieutenant and his second-best EMT and Chief told me that Chuck's a lying piece of shit and I'm a goddamn idiot, Dean, I'm so sorry I let him get between us and let him make me question you. You're the one constant in my life and I can't believe I let some guy come between us."

“Hey, hey, hey,” Dean says, rushing to sit next to me and lean down to look in my eyes. “You’re not an idiot. He just...he preyed upon your desire to be loved.” He licks his lips and sighs. “And it’s my fault that desire went unfulfilled for so many years, sweet cheeks.”

I shake my head. What does that mean? “Dean, what does-”

“Dad told me to tell you and I shoulda told you years ago. Sam told me to tell you back when I was starin’ at corsages, thinkin’ about askin’ you to senior Prom and Benny’s been on me for months...ever since you went on that first date with Chuck and I been thinking all night about the right words to tell you that I’ve been in love with you since ninth grade and I just couldn’t think of anything other than the straight-forward truth.”

My jaw drops. It takes my brain a minute to catch up to everything he just said. “Did you just--did you--did you say you love me?” I whisper when my mouth starts forming words again.

He nods apprehensively. “I shoulda told you. I just-”

“Didn’t wanna lose the friendship?” I interrupt.

He swallows and looks away. “You’ve been my best friend for almost as long as I can remember, Y/n. All of my best memories are memories with you and to lose...to lose you would, well, it would ruin me.” I reach out and take his hand and he smiles a little when he looks down at our clasped hands. “It almost...when Chuck started changin’ you, I...I thought I was just jealous but losing you...losing the woman you are, the one I’ve known for-”

“Dean, I don’t like who he was making me, either...and I don’t wanna be her and I don’t wanna be with him. I don’t think I ever really did,” I admit. His eyes go all big and I don’t know if that's surprise or just happiness. “I just didn’t wanna be alone anymore. I wanted to be held and kissed and...give the women you bring home some competition on the decibel-levels, not that he even ever touched me like that,” I slip. I’m tired. I didn’t mean to say that.

His eyes go wide and then his eyebrows come together. “You were together for almost a year and he never…” He trails off as I look down at my lap, my cheeks heating up with shame. “Not once?”

“He wanted to wait until we got married,” I answer meekly.

He rolls his eyes, almost aggressively, and scoffs. “Wanted to wait until you were skinny enough to please his stupid-” He lets out an angry grunt and takes a deep breath. “You deserve better, Y/n. You deserve better than Chuck and I don’t know if I’m that. I know I’m...I’m not the best guy. I’m not as smart as him and I don’t got his family’s money, but...I won’t try to change you...and I don’t care what you eat because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and you always have been.”

I gasp and tears well up in my eyes. “Dean.” I lean forward and take his face in my hands. “Do you remember that pep rally in sixth grade when you weren’t allowed to go because you were on the list? And I wasn’t on the list but I ended up on the list after because I got in a fight at the pep rally?” He nods and I lick my lips. “I got in that fight on purpose. Because I would rather hang out, passing notes back and forth in detention with you every pep rally than hang with the other assholes at our school. I was already in love with you then.”

“You said Melissa Cambridge called you ‘fat’.”

“She _did_ but I’d never pulled her braids over it in the past. I just wanted to be with you.”

He scoffs and smiles. “We’re a couple of dumbasses, aren’t we?” he asks and I laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, we are, but...at least you told me before I married Chuck. That would’ve been the-”

“The biggest mistake of both of our lives. You’re gonna give him the ring back?” he asks, reaching up to grasp my locket. I took the ring off the chain hours ago.

“Maybe. Might sell it to pay for the new locks for the door. I don’t know how he got a key to our apartment but he has one and I don’t like it. I’m definitely not _keeping_ it...or him.” He smiles as he opens the locket to look at the little pictures of us. “Dean?” I whisper and he looks up at me.

My heart stops for a second as I consider the next move. It could be bad, but I make the move anyway. I lean forward and capture his lips in a kiss. He looks surprised for a moment before he grabs my head and deepens the kiss. Kissing Dean feels so different than kissing Chuck ever did. Kissing Dean feels like...safety and sunshine and none of the darkness and danger that I always felt with Chuck. I feel loved with Dean, wanted.

We pull apart and I almost immediately yawn and he chuckles. “Come on, sweets. It’s been a long night. Let’s get some sleep.”

I stand up and grab his hand. "My room?"

He licks his lips and smiles. "We're both exhausted. Probably shouldn't."

My cheeks go hot as I realize he thinks I'm trying to get him to have sex with me. "To _sleep_ , Dean."

He hums and sighs heavily. "That just doesn't sound as fun." He laughs and pulls me into his arms. "It sounds awesome, though. Lead the way, baby."

We settle in my bed and I lay my head on his shoulder. "I love you, Dean."

He lets out a soft gasp and slips his arm under my body, holding me close to him. "Love you too, Y/n."

We wake up about four and a half hours later. We’ve shifted in our sleep. He’s spooning me, holding me close to his chest. He’s a bit awkwardly-angled away from me and when I try to sit up to investigate, he holds me tighter. “Just morning wood. Go back to sleep,” he mumbles into my shoulder.

My face goes hot at the idea of him being hard. He’s in my bed, he’s holding me, and he’s hard. Honestly, I don’t care that it’s just morning wood. I wanna...touch it.

I reach backward and put my hand on his hip. I don’t want to do it, touch him, if he doesn’t want me to, but… “I’ve always wondered,” I say.

He shifts a little closer and my heart starts pounding. “Wondered what?” he asks in my ear and I shiver.

“I’ve had to hear you make all these bar pickups scream in pleasure and I’ve always wondered if that was, ya know, skill or equipment.”

He chuckles and grabs my wrist, guiding my hand down to his crotch. “It’s both,” he whispers as my fingers glide across the hard line of his erection.

Oh. He’s big. I thought he might be, but...oh, God.

“Holy shit, Dean,” I whisper, turning over to look at him.

His cheeks are all pink, his freckles are popping against the color. “What?” he asks, shyly.

“I...you’re just…” I swallow nervously. “You ever hurt a girl with that WMD in your pants?”

He chuckles and hides his face in his hand. “It’s not _that_ big...and, ya know, ‘slow and steady wins the race’. Just need to take the time to prep.”

“Okay, but that’s your slutty pickups, right? Women with loose...morals.” I don’t wanna call them mean names, but the women he brings, _brought_ hopefully, home are all way more experienced than I am.

He raises an eyebrow and sits up. “Are you scared that I’m gonna hurt you, sweets? ‘Cause I won’t.” All the shyness is gone from his face and all that’s left is sincere care. “I mean, I’m not even trying to get there with you yet, but when I do I’m gonna make sure that I never hurt you.”

“I’m sorry. I feel like I’m being-”

“You’re nervous and that’s totally okay. We’re not going to do anything until-” he starts and I sigh. Dean and I haven’t done a lot of talking about my sex life because I didn’t want him to know how nonexistent it is so this is...hard.

“I’m just not...I don’t...ugh.” I look at my lap and bite my bottom lip. “You know how Chuck’s the first guy I’ve really dated and-”

“Wait, you’re not a virgin, are you?” he asks softly. No judgment about it so I shake my head.

“No. I...there was that guy I went on that date to Red Lobster and then he never called me again.”

“What, that jerk, Andy? He was your first?”

“And only,” I admit a little sheepishly.

“Shit. I thought...I mean, I assumed…” He runs his hand through his hair and sighs. “And then Chuck didn’t...shit. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’ve been parading all these chicks and-”

“It’s okay. You were just enjoying yourself.”

He reaches out and softly touches my cheek. “So...you, uh, want a sex ed tutor? I owe you for letting me cheat off your math work in high school.”

My cheeks go all hot again and I look into his eyes. “I’d really like that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Dean’s POV~~~~~~~~~~~~

All night, I’ve been thinking about calling Y/n, but I haven’t. Until I have the right words, I can’t talk to her. I’ll sleep on it, talk to her after I wake up.

I unlock the door and quietly let myself in. My eyebrows hit the roof when I see her sitting on the couch. “Up a little early, aren’t’cha?” I ask as I hang my keys where they go.

“Didn’t sleep. Had to think and...order new locks for the door and...question the last twenty years of my life.” She’s questioning our friendship? Shit. That’s...I was gonna- “Chuck came by last night, massive black eye.” Yeah. Wonder what excuse he gave for the fight? “Said you hit him and demanded I move out...or kick you out.” Of course he did. Can’t have me telling the truth to her. Guess that’s why she’s buying new locks.

“He said you punched him because you were talking shit about me and he came to my defense and-” That’s such bullshit! I can’t believe he twisted that and she obviously doesn’t wanna hear my side ‘cause she’s getting louder and louder. “-and that just didn’t sit right with me so I called your dad because the Chief would know what caused a fight between his best Lieutenant and his second-best EMT-”

Oh thank God, she called Dad.

“And Chief told me that Chuck’s a lying piece of shit and I’m a goddamn idiot, Dean. I’m so sorry I let him get between us and let him make me question you. You're the one constant in my life and I can't believe I let some guy come between us."

She can’t be blaming herself! “Hey, hey, hey.” I run over to sit beside her, dipping my chin to look her in her eyes. “You’re not an idiot. He just...he preyed upon your desire to be loved.” And it’s my fault that I let it happen. I lick my lips. “And it’s my fault that desire went unfulfilled for so many years, sweet cheeks.”

She shakes her head and looks so confused. “Dean, what does-”

Shit. “Dad told me to tell you and I shoulda told you years ago.” Everyone told me to tell her. “Sam told me to tell you back when I was starin’ at corsages, thinkin’ about askin’ you to senior Prom and Benny’s been on me for months...ever since you went on that first date with Chuck and I been thinking all night about the right words to tell you that I’ve been in love with you since ninth grade and I just couldn’t think of anything other than the straight-forward truth.”

Guess that works.

Her jaw literally drops...and then she’s silent. For too long. “Did you just-did you--did you say you love me?” she whispers eventually.

Oh, God, I did. I nod. “I shoulda told you. I just-”

“Didn’t wanna lose the friendship?” she interrupts.

Yeah. Exactly. I gotta look away from her because my cheeks are on fire and my whole body is tense and I feel like I might get sick and I gotta have this conversation that’s a million years overdue and I gotta get it out. “You’ve been my best friend for almost as long as I can remember, Y/n. All of my best memories are memories with you and to lose...to lose you would, well, it would ruin me.” She looks shaky too when she reaches out and grabs my hand and that makes me smile because she’s...holding my hand. “It almost...when Chuck started changin’ you, I...I thought I was just jealous but losing you...losing the woman you are, the one I’ve known for-”

“Dean, I don’t like who he was making me, either...and I don’t wanna be her and I don’t wanna be with him. I don’t think I ever really did.” Oh fuck yes! Fuck, yes. She doesn’t love him. Thank fuck for that! “I just didn’t wanna be alone anymore. I wanted to be held and kissed and...give the women you bring home some competition on the decibel-levels, not that he even ever touched me like that.”

Wait, what? “You were together for almost a year and he never…” He never fucked her? He never--well, at least I know he wasted that opportunity…and I don’t have to imagine that bullshit anymore. But... “Not once?”

“He wanted to wait until we got married,” she answers, softly.

I roll my eyes so hard I think they might stay that way and scoff loudly. “Wanted to wait until you were skinny enough to please his stupid-” Don’t put this on her. Don’t put this on her. I take a deep breath. “You deserve better, Y/n. You deserve better than Chuck and I don’t know if I’m that. I know I’m...I’m not the best guy. I’m not as smart as him and I don’t got his family’s money, but...I won’t try to change you...and I don’t care what you eat because you are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on and you always have been.” Wow, I just said that out loud.

She gasps and tears up. “Dean,” she says before she leans in and cups my face with her hands. “Do you remember that pep rally in sixth grade when you weren’t allowed to go because you were on the list? And I wasn’t on the list but I ended up on the list after because I got in a fight at the pep rally?” I nod. Of course I do. We had so much fun in pep rally detention in middle school. “I got in that fight on purpose. Because I would rather hang out, passing notes back and forth in detention with you every pep rally than hang with the other assholes at our school. I was already in love with you then.”

She’s in love with me? She got put in detention on purpose? She’s in love with me? “You said Melissa Cambridge called you ‘fat’.”

“She _did_ but I’d never pulled her braids over it in the past. I just wanted to be with you.”

I scoff happily and smile at her. We’re idiots. “We’re a couple of dumbasses, aren’t we?”

She laughs. “Yeah. Yeah, we are, but...at least you told me before I married Chuck. That would’ve been the-”

“The biggest mistake of both of our lives. You’re gonna give him the ring back?” I ask, reaching out to pull her locket out of her shirt. The ring is gone.

“Maybe. Might sell it to pay for the new locks for the door. I don’t know how he got a key to our apartment but he has one and I don’t like it. I’m definitely not _keeping_ it...or him.” I smile as I open the locket and look at the pictures of us. Little pictures of us from when we were young. We were so cute. She whispers my name and I look up at her.

She swallows and then leans in and presses her lips to mine. Holy shit, she’s kissing me! I grab her head and kiss her harder because this kiss is everything I’ve been praying for my whole life. This is what I’ve been dreaming of. She’s my everything.

I don’t wanna pull away to breathe but I gotta. I’m planning to go into another kiss, but she immediately yawns. She’s fuckin’ exhausted. Me too, now that my adrenaline is dropping. “Come on, sweets. It’s been a long night. Let’s get some sleep,” I say, standing.

She stands and takes my hand again. “My room?” she offers.

I wanna say ‘yes’ but damn, may be a bad idea. “We're both exhausted. Probably shouldn't."

"To _sleep_ , Dean."

I hum and sigh dramatically. “That just doesn’t sound as fun,” I tease before laughing and pulling her into a hug. “It sounds awesome, though. Lead the way, baby."

We go set up in her bed and she lays her head on my shoulder. “I love you, Dean," she whispers and I gasp a little.

I wrap my arms around her and hold her close to me. “Love you too, Y/n.”

About four hours later, I wake up. I’ve got her smell in my head and I’ve got her body pressed against mine and I’ve got a fucking rager in my pants. The hardest of hard-ons and my whole face is hot because I’m embarrassed as hell to be hard for her like this when we _just_ said our first ‘I love you’s and she just decided to break it off with Chuck and…I’ll just shift a little to the side so she doesn’t feel it.

It’s fine. It’s...so uncomfortable. But it’s fine.

She wakes as I’m finally starting to try to fall asleep again and, of course, she notices the way I’m kinda not letting my lower half touch her. She goes to sit up, but I wrap my arms around her tighter. “Just morning wood,” I admit into her shoulder. Okay, it’s not _just_ morning wood, but whatever. “Go back to sleep.”

Her hand is shaking as she reaches back and puts it gently on my hip. Fuck. Should we do this? “I’ve always wondered,” she starts and I move a bit closer to her.

“Wondered what?” I ask in her ear. I feel a bit breathless. My heart’s going a mile a minute.

“I’ve had to hear you make all these bar pickups scream in pleasure and I’ve always wondered if that was, ya know, skill or equipment.”

I laugh a little and grab her wrist. We should do this. I set her hand on my hard-on, let her feel me. “It’s both,” I answer.

She starts groping me through my jeans and holy fuckin’ hell, I wish I wasn’t wearing jeans.

“Holy shit, Dean,” she whispers and I blush like crazy as she turns over to look at me.

“What?”

“I...you’re just…” She looks down at my crotch. “You ever hurt a girl with that WMD in your pants?”

I chuckle and run my hand down my face. “It’s not _that_ big.” It’s really not. I’ve seen guys in porn that are bigger. “And, ya know, ‘slow and steady wins the race’. Just need to take the time to prep.”

“Okay, but that’s your slutty pickups, right? Women with loose...morals.”

Oh. If _they’ve_ got loose morals, what does that say about me? But...somehow, I don’t think it’s about the morals. I raise an eyebrow and sit up to look at her. “Are you scared that I’m gonna hurt you, sweets? ‘Cause I won’t. I mean, I’m not even trying to get there with you yet, but when I do I’m gonna make sure that I never hurt you.”

She looks away from me. “I’m sorry. I feel like I’m being-”

Don’t be sorry. “You’re nervous and that’s totally okay. We’re not going to do anything until-” I start and she lets out this loud sigh.

“I’m just not...I don’t...ugh.” She looks down at her lap and she looks...embarrassed? “You know how Chuck’s the first guy I’ve really dated and-”

Is she saying she’s a- “Wait, you’re not a virgin, are you?” I ask, trying hard to make sure she doesn’t think I’m judging that, because I’m not judging. I’m just asking.

She shakes her head. “No. I...there was that guy I went on that date to Red Lobster and then he never called me again.”

“What, that jerk, Andy? He was your first?” I wanted to kill that guy.

“And only,” she says, kinda weakly.

‘Only’? She’s only ever had sex with one guy? One guy that never called her again? Only one. She’s only been with one douchebag who probably didn’t even take his time to- “Shit. I thought...I mean, I assumed…” Ass out of you, Winchester. I run my hand through my hair and sigh. I’m an asshole. “And then Chuck didn’t...shit. I’m so sorry, Y/n. I’ve been parading all these chicks and-”

“It’s okay. You were just enjoying yourself.”

Shit, but I should have been enjoying myself with her. I reach out and caress her cheek. “So...you, uh, want a sex ed tutor?” I volunteer, my stomach flipping a bit. I wasn’t gonna jump right into the sex stuff, but...she deserves it. “I owe you for letting me cheat off your math work in high school.”

She looks me right in my eyes and nods. “I’d really like that.”

I slip my hand back to cradle her head and pull her into a kiss. She immediately moans and I’m just...fuck, I wanna do this right. Do I have condoms? When’s the last time I bought condoms? Shit, get out of your head, Dean.

I run my tongue over her bottom lip and she drops her jaw, letting me in. She makes this little whimpering noise when I suck her lip in between mine and nibble on it. She grabs at my shirt when I start French kissing her. We just kiss for a while. Nice and slow, sweet and pretty.

I don’t know how far I’m gonna take this, but I know how far I _want_ to take it. As far as I’ve wanted to go since we were teenagers.

“Dean,” she moans, grabbing at my shirt and yanking it up toward my head. I pull back and smile at her enthusiasm, pulling my shirt over my head and licking my bottom lip. She reaches out to run her fingers across my pecs and scratches lightly over my nipples and I gasp. Shit. She swallows and hums. “Are we really…”

“Yeah. Now, take that shirt off, sweets. I’ve been dreamin’ of those boobs since that pool party at Jo Harvelle’s house in tenth grade. Lemme see.” She looks all shy as she grabs the bottom hem of her shirt...and I’m not sure if that’s adorable or just her self-esteem getting to her. “Seriously, I just wanna see you, Y/n. Don’t feel shy with me.”

She bites her bottom lip as she pulls her shirt over her head. I let out a soft gasp. No bra. Holy shit. “Whoa. You just…” She really is beautiful. I know she hates these curves and soft edges but look at those boobs! Who cares about a belly when she’s got that face and those boobs? “You look amazing. Fuck. Can I?” I ask, gesturing at her tits. She nods nervously and I lean down and take a nipple in my mouth. She whines and pushes closer to me.

Yeah, we’re taking this all the way, if she wants to take it that far because fuck me if I can even imagine not knowing what she feels like when I get to work tonight.

I lay her back and kiss my way across her chest. I lick and suck marks into her skin. When she starts squirming under me, I lean back and tuck my fingers into the waistband of her pants and underwear. I don’t do it yet though. I don’t pull ‘em down yet. “Is it okay?” I ask.

“I...haven’t shaved,” she squeaks and I laugh.

“Is that all? I haven’t groomed since I been on night shift. You got nothin’ to worry about. So...can I?” She nods and I start teasing the fabric down her legs, going slow ‘cause I don’t wanna overwhelm her. But she’s beautiful and I just can’t fuckin’ wait to have her. She kicks them off of her feet when I get them to her ankles and I smile at her before I jump up. “I’ll be right back. Gotta run to my room real quick.”

Condom. Extra lube for just in case. Probably won’t need it but I want her to have it if she needs it...and a towel for after!

She looks up at me a bit awkward when I walk in and drop everything on the bed before dropping my pants and boxers to the floor and then she doesn’t look awkward anymore. She just looks horny as she’s looking at my dick. “Shit, Dean. You really...wow.”

I smirk and climb back on the bed. “I’ve been waiting for this for our whole lives. Want it to be perfect.”

“It already is,” she whispers with a smile and I lay myself over her, kissing her hard and grabbing the outside of her soft, thick thigh. She whines my name and I move my hand between her thighs.

I go slow. I rub at her clit and then slip my middle finger into her pussy. She’s so wet. Definitely not gonna need that extra lube. She starts twisting her hands in the sheets and then I lean down and lick her clit into my mouth and she cries out. She clenches real hard around my fingers and if she does that once I get my dick inside of her, I think I might cum immediately. She's tight, too. Thirty-three year old almost-virgin, of course she is. But, damn...I wanna make this last and I don’t know if I can make it last like this. She’s gonna be the death of me.

I pull my hand back and smile at the shiny slick all over my fingers. She fuckin’ smells awesome. She tastes--oh my god. I never wanna taste another pussy ever again and I need to get a damn condom on because I need to be inside her now. Right now.

“You’re gonna go slow, right?” she whispers as I roll the condom on and pinch the tip to give it room.

“Yeah. I’m gonna...I promise I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Shit, she might hurt _me_.

I prop up on my elbow and set my dick right at her entrance and she grabs my shoulders as I start pushing into her. Little bit forward, little bit back, saw my hips back and forth. Hands on my shoulders move to my neck and she pulls me into a sloppy kiss. She bucks her hips and I slip almost all the way in and we both gasp into each other’s mouths.

“M’I goin’ _too_ slow, Y/n?”

“I dunno,” she squeaks and then she clenches and I groan into her. “Just need, fuck, Dean, need you.”

Sexier words have never been said.

"I got you, baby. I got'chu."

I don’t worry about getting all the way in her. I just start giving slow, shallow thrusts. Don't need to go hard and deep and crazy. Don’t need any awesome positions. Just need to kiss her and grind down into her and make her whimper and moan and this is...the absolute best sex I've ever had...because it's not just sex.

"Feels so good!" she exclaims.

“You feel so perfect, Y/n,” I whisper into her ear and she moans and clenches around me.

Our skin is slippery with sweat, we’re both moaning and breathing heavy, her bed starts creaking and I can just _barely_ hear the sound of her pussy making squelching sounds. She’s so wet. I think she’s getting close. Just needs a little push.

I lick my thumb and reach down between us to rub circles across her clit. She arches, her eyes squeeze shut and then her pussy is _fluttering_ and my eyes roll, toes curl, my breath catches as I start spilling into the condom and I slap my hand against the headboard as I try to keep fucking her through it.

Holy shit.

I coax her into a kiss and she whimpers as she tries to get her eyes to open. “Holy shit, D.,” she whispers and I chuckle.

“My thoughts, exactly.” I drop to the mattress and pant out a few sighs. “That was so perfect.” I pull the rubber off and tie the end before I fling it at her trash can. I let out a scoff when it lands in the basket. Nothin’ but net.

“I think I’m gonna be feeling that for days,” she says, sitting up and looking down at me.

“Oh, if I have anything to say about it, you’re gonna be feeling it forever. At least once a day for the rest of our lives, Y/n.” She looks all bashful again as she looks away from me and I lean up, grabbing her chin and turning her to look in my eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Dean,” she whispers and I fucking love those fucking words. “You think we should get some more sleep?”

I nod and kiss her before settling back into her bed. She follows and lays her head on my chest. And things are good. Things are so fucking good. For a few hours.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Chuck yells, waking us up about an hour and a half later.

I sit up and glare at him. “What are _you_ doin’? You don’t live here, asshole, and no one invited you.”

“My fiancée live-”

“You don’t _have_ a fiancée,” I interrupt. I reach down and grab my boxers and yank them on as Y/n sits up, pulling the sheet over her body. "You and Y/n are fucking done."

“I don’t think you’re the one who gets to decide that, Dean!” he shouts at me and I bite my bottom lip as I step closer to him. “Just because you came in and messed everything up-”

“Chuck, shut up!” Y/n demands and we both turn to look at her. “I’m not wearing your ring anymore, you jerk!” She stands and I don’t even try to hide a smile as she wraps the sheet around her body. “I’m not gonna marry you. You’ve been manipulating and lying to me and you’re _mean_. You acted like you cared about me, but you didn’t. You didn’t even like me! You just wanted someone who you could...fuckin’ gaslight into being what you wanted so...screw you! Screw your diet and your ring and your size 10 dress! I’m with Dean now!”

Hell yes, she is.

Chuck looks like he’s about to lose his damn mind with rage, but he just turns and stomps out. Easier than I thought. Expected a fight. Then again, I _am_ the one that punched him first at the station.

“You okay, sweets?” I ask, walking over to her.

“Yeah. I’m okay. I’ve...never broken up with anybody before,” she whispers, looking up into my eyes.

“Yeah, it’s not fun, but...I know he deserved everything you said and more so…” I cup her cheeks and smile, leaning down to kiss her. She reaches up with one hand and buries it in my hair, using the other one to hold the sheet up. We just stand here, kissing for a few moments before we hear the front door open again. Of course Chuck couldn’t just stay gone. I turn to glare at him but I stop when I notice the pistol in his hand. “Get in the closet,” I say, pushing Y/n toward her walk-in closet.

I put my hands up and put myself between Chuck and Y/n as she grabs her phone off the dresser and scrambles to the door. “Chuck, what the fuck are you doin’, man?” I shake my head at him. “Why do you have a gun?”

“Ya know, I spent months working on her, Dean. _Months_! She was supposed to be my wife and you messed it up! You messed everything up!” he shouts, waving the gun around.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I-I messed everything up, but...I mean, this really the hill you wanna die on, Chuck? You really wanna go to prison over a woman that you didn’t even wanna marry until she looked the way you wanted?"

"Dean, she is perfect in _every_ way but one! She is what I wanted in every way but _one_. Well, two, but as soon as her parents died and she was free for me whenever I needed her and all that was left to fix was her body and _you_ had to ruin everything. Why couldn't you just go away? When I asked her to marry me, why didn't you just go away?!"

Oh, shit. This is so bad. So very bad. Dude is completely unhinged.

"Chuck, seriously, put the gun down."

Oh, please tell me that Y/n is on with 911.

"I can't believe I was stupid enough to think you weren't going to be a problem!" he shouts as he waves the damn gun in the air. "You went to night shift, you stopped talking and hanging out with her, a little push should have been enough to drive a wedge but it didn’t fucking work! You're too close! You're just like family, just like her parents! I should have had her to myself after I ran her parents off the road but _you fucked it up_!"

He what? He ran...he…

I'm tackling him before I have a chance to think about the potential consequences. Part of me wants him dead. He's caused Y/n so much pain. He's caused death and the destruction of my girl's way of life. I knock the gun out of his hand and slide it across the floor and then I start punching the fuck out of him.

Until the cops bust in the front door and pull me off of him.

Course they put me in cuffs, detain me while they check him out, secure his pistol, question me and Chuck and Y/n.

"After he said he ran her parents' car off the road, I-I knew he was capable of-of murder so I took the chance and…I tackled him."

"He said he murdered someone?" the cop asks.

"Two someones,” I answer. “Y/n’s parents. They died in an MVA last month. Chuck admitted to runnin’ ‘em off the road.”

I look over at Y/n across the living room, talking to a deputy. She’s wearing a bathrobe and her face is tearstained and I just wanna go over and make this better, but...not yet. Not until they clear this shit up.

When they finally pull that idiot out of here in handcuffs and take mine off, I rush over to her and pull her into my arms. She’s crying but she’s holding onto me and I love it...because I love her and I know that everything is going to be okay.

Everything’s going to be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note- There's probably gonna be a fluffy little epilogue.


End file.
